Diff'rent sides
by RouJoumis
Summary: A few years back, my brother and I had an argument what would Myn Donos do if he met Lara Notsil again? He wrote part 1 to show me his opinion. I wrote part 2 as a response. Very unpolished, but mildly interesting . . .
1. His version

Eric's 'Myn Donos' 

Donos ran down one of the numerous back alleys of (planet) and ducked into a dark doorway. Two men in dark cloaks sprinted past, missing him completely, and made a turn at the end. Their shouts soon faded.

Myn sighed in relief. Myn Donos, New Republic Pilot, and now, (planet)s most wanted, was sent here to make contact with a possible shipping contact, one who could smuggle Jedi around the galaxy. But the contact had fled when Myn found him. With good reasen, Myn thought, peeking around to see if there were any more persuers.

Stepping out of his hiding place, Myn quickly yet quietly, made his way to the contact's Baker point. The Powers That Be had been nice enough to foresee this obstacle, and had set up no less then seven meeting times and places spread out over three days. Fifteen minutes later, Myn snuck into a small, well lit landing bay. Surveying the empty room, he saw a door in the left wall that might lead to a control room. Perhaps he was in there.

He started forward, but before he had taken two steps, he felt a blaster point at the base of his neck.

"Don't move," a gruff voice said.

Myn raised his arms as the point of the blaster prodded them. "Hey, I was just trying to talk to Captain Doran. Thought I could Kettch a ride with him," Myn felt the blaster pause, along with the hand that had been checking him for weapons. He hoped that meant this was his contact, but waited for the countersign before making any – rash, actions.

"T-tough," The vice faltered, and then came back strong. "He's come down with (name of desease in Wraith squadron)."

Myn relaxed a bit. It was his contact. "Myn Donos," He said, "I'm with-"

"We've met." The gruff voice said. Proddiing the blaster at his back again he said, "Disarm yourself. Now."

"Well, much as I like being disarming, I can't do that."

The voice was at his ear now. "Do it, or I stun you now and do it myself. And then I'll stun you again till I get you to my ship, and then I decide whether or not to kill you. If you cooperate, your chances of living through this increase greatly."

"By how much?"

"NOW!"

"Okay, okay. Give me a minute."

Soon Myn had a small pile of weapons lying on the floor before him, while the man, still behind him, checked to make sure Myn had not "forgotten" anything. Soon satisfied, he steered Myn to the center of the room. After Myn stopped he heard the man move quickly towards the weapons pile.

"Myn, I want you to remember this." The gruff voice now seemed a touch lighter. "There was a time when you would have trusted me with your life. You would have said "Back me up," and you knew I would be there right behind you, keeping you from the Imps' blasters. I want you to remember that. Now turn around."

Myn turned. For a full minute he stood there, his face solid as stone. The back of his mind was slightly interested in the emotions running through the rest of his mind, but it was merely a spectator. Anger came first, then confusion. After that was sadness, a thirst for murder, and fear. But in the end, it came back to anger, cold, hard anger.

"Murderer."

His contact flinched at his barly audible word.

"Give me one good reason," Myn said, "ONE! Tell me why I shouldn't try and kill you the first chance I get?"

His contact, no longer trying to disguise her voice, spoke just above a whisper. 

"So I can help the Republic."

Myn snorted. "That's the best you have? No, "Because you know its wrong,"? No, "Because I have friends who will hunt you down,"? I should let you live, just so you can help a bunch of people you once tried to… to…" His voice choked up. "You killed them. You killed them all."

A tear slipped from Lara's eye. "Not a day goes by I don't remember that Myn. Not a day. But I need to know right now. Can you and I work together, or should I just leave right now?"

Myn said nothing for a time. He just stood there, thinking, debating on what he should do. Then, he slowly walked forward and took his comlink from the little pile of weapons. Stepping past Lara, he opened the door to the outside. Not looking at her, he spoke.

"Make the next contact point. Someone will be there."

"But not you?"

Myn turned his head to her. 

"No, not me. Not ever me."


	2. My version

My version of 'Myn Donos' 

Myn Donos was walking through the streets of Coronet City. He'd left his uniform with his ship, wearing instead a 'civvie' outfit of slacks, shirt, and oversized jacket. He passed stores and stalls, most rundown or abandoned. Business was slow on Treasure Row, and the people were unhappy. Myn almost wished he hadn't come home. He remembered this place as the heart of Corellia, bustling with people and excitement; noise, color, and credits had swirled around the place like currents of water in a deep river. Now, it seemed a dying thing, a pale shadow of its former self. Treasure Row wasn't dead yet, but it probably would be soon. It hurt to look around and see what time and cruel fate had done to it.

He suddenly decided that he'd had enough – he couldn't stay here any longer. He'd go somewhere else, see other parts of his homeworld – but he wouldn't remain in Treasure Row any longer. Even he could only take so much depression; and his appetite for it had grown less and less in the past few years, ever since he had listened to Wedge and Wes about his responsibility as a pilot; ever since he'd almost killed Face; ever since he'd fallen in love with Lara Notsil.

Ever since he'd fallen in love with Gara Petothel, the woman who'd helped kill his squadron.

Myn started to walk towards the nearest end of the Row – back the way he'd come. He trudged along the road, his eyes facing the ground. He'd learned not to deliberately expose himself to situations that would depress him any more than necessary; and he'd learned a good definition of just how much _was_ necessary. He'd needed to come and see this place, but he didn't need to wallow in misery. No, it was better to just walk out of the Row, looking neither right nor left – so he wouldn't see what had become of Treasure Row, so he wouldn't see what had happened to all of Coronet City – 

He knew now what had happened to his planet, and he also knew that there was nothing he could do to help.

He walked on.

He was jolted out of his brisk pace when he heard someone call his name.

"Myn?" He didn't recognize the voice, not right off – had he imagined it?

"Myn? Is that you?"

He turned to see. The caller had been behind him and to the left, not very far away – there she was. Was she the one who had called him?

_Lara_.

She hurried towards him, red hair swinging back over her shoulder, her delicate features making her seem thin and fragile as she looked up at him. For one moment, she seemed so vulnerable, so full of fearful hope, that Myn thought she would break in two.

Then her face cleared, and she smiled as she realized that it _was_ him. She looked confident and happy, a joyous smile on her face.

"Myn! It is you. It's me – Kirney. You remember me, right?"

He looked down at her, remembering. In her last message, she had called herself Kirney Slane, and said that she was running a shuttle service. She had looked hopeful and vibrant – like she did now. Myn looked at her happy face, and he wasn't sure he wanted to risk ruining that – if he called her Lara, if he talked to her about Wraiths and X-Wings, maybe that smile would melt away, a fear rising in her, a cold distance driving out the warmth in her eyes – 

"Hello, Kirney. Yes, of course I remember you! It's good to see you again." He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Her smile had been bright before, but now it was blazing like the Glowpoint. "It's wonderful to see you too, Myn. I didn't expect to see you here…"

"I didn't expect to see you either," he admitted. "I had hoped… but, I didn't know.. I mean… I wasn't sure where to reach you."

She looked in his eyes, her smile muted but her joy intact. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Want to get a drink somewhere and talk about things?" She wasn't pressing him – just offering. Or maybe asking – she needed to talk to him as much as he needed to talk to her…

"Sure. I'd love to."

They walked down Treasure Row together, towards a place where there was still activity and life.


End file.
